


Kindling

by x_ziv07



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda slow burn I guess, References to Canon, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Worldbuilding, slight Est/Abel stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-03-24 12:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_ziv07/pseuds/x_ziv07
Summary: With both her country and her heart broken from the aftermath of several wars, Palla decides to dedicate the rest of her life to restoring Macedon. But after being summoned in Askr, Palla finds it harder and harder to keep everything that she buried deep in her heart at bay.In which Palla learns more about the man that destroyed her homeland and how to come to terms with the feelings for the man that will never love her back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Michalis and his super edgy-lines. When I started a flier team with Palla and Michalis on it, I didn't think my disgusting shippy heart would actually seriously ship them together. But uh, then it happened and here this is.

When Palla arrived at the Summoner's room, she knocked once, twice, thrice because she knew how engrossed Kiran can be with her work. She slowly swung the door open. Kiran looked up from her desk and flashed her a small, tired smile.

“Hello there, Palla,” Kiran said and gestured for her to enter. The room was dimly lit with a flickering lantern at the corner of the desk to the side. Palla took care not to step on any of the papers that were haphazardly thrown about on the floor, making a mental note to herself to come back again in the morning to help tidy things up. Kiran stood up, setting her quill down on a stack of papers. “What's going on?”

“Nothing much,” Palla replied. “After our last skirmish with Embla, I couldn't help but notice how exhausted you look. Have you resting well lately?”

Kiran flushed slightly, her hands loosely playing with the ends of her sleeves, “Ah, well, there's just been so much to do... A-and I just simply lose track of time once I get started on my work at night, so...” She said, squeaking out the last bit.

“I figured you'd say something like that. Here,” Palla motioned Kiran to her chair. “The least I can do is help you relax a little.”

“But I don't... I mean, you don't—”

“But nothing.” Palla closed the distance between them in an instant, gently pushing Kiran back into the chair with a quiet apology for her impulsiveness. She circled around so that she stood behind Kiran with her hands on the Summoner's shoulders, instantly noticing the tension in them. “I won't take too long. Just a quick shoulder massage. Perhaps it would do you some good.”

Kiran gave a tiny sigh as Palla began to rub at her shoulders with small, soothing circles. Kiran leaned back into her touch as her resistance melted away at the touch. “Thank you.”

“It's my pleasure.”

A comfortable silence settled between them as Palla continued, feeling the knots slowly unwind and watching Kiran's posture relax. After a few moments, she spoke up.

“You don't need to push yourself so hard. You've been doing your best as our army's tactician and we all know that,” Palla lightly admonished, “You'll work yourself sick if you keep this up.”

“Yes, I know. But it's just...”

“Hm?”

“Well, you should know, since you and Catria were one of the first heroes that were summoned to Askr.” Kiran said, tensing up again. Even in the poor lighting, Palla could make up the faint dusting of pink creeping onto Kiran’s face. “Prior to any of this, I barely knew anything about war and strategies, much less how to lead an entire army. I have to work extra hard to match everyone's expectations because of my inexperience.”

“Oh dear. Was that why?” Palla's hands stop. She wrapped her arms around the Summoner's neck and pulled her into a loose embrace. Her mind went back to the first time she met Kiran. A shy girl with an appetite for knowledge and a surprising aptitude for tactics. A little clumsy, most likely as a result her lack of confidence. But Kiran was a quick learner, absorbing something new with each battle, both from the allies that she guided as well as their opponents.

“Regardless of how you were in the beginning, you've made tremendous progress. You proved how capable of a leader you are, on and off the battlefield. Without you, Prince Alphonse and Princess Sharena would still be fighting on their own. Without you, we couldn't have made it this far. It was all thanks to you that we are able to have small moments like this.”

Kiran nodded as if she had heard the same words many times before, something that Palla was sure that the Askrian siblings and the army's commander had done time and again. “Yes, yes, I know.” With another small sigh, Kiran continued, “I do what I do because I love the people that I've met here. I don't want to let anyone down.”

Palla gave her shoulders a small squeeze of reassurance. “You're doing great. We put a great deal of trust in you and the decisions you make.”

“Thank you, Palla.” Kiran placed one of her hands atop of Palla's as a sign of affirmation. “And for the massage.”

“Just try to get some rest every now and then. It'll do nobody any good if you overexert yourself.”

Kiran laughed, “All right, all right, I get it. I'll go to bed early tonight.”

“And if you don't, I might decide to drop in to check up on you during my patrol tonight,” Palla said. She already planned on doing so at some point during her nightly patrol and reaffirmed the idea after seeing how tired the Summoner was.

“Oh right,” Kiran's eyes glimmered with interest “You’re on patrol tonight, aren’t you?"

As the number of people taking up residence within the castle increased into a sizable number, Commander Anna mandated that they establish a permanent guard going out on patrol at all times in case of emergencies, with people set in rotating shifts.

"Who is your partner for the night shift right now?”

Palla's hand instinctively drew to the hilt of the sword on her hip, feeling a frown tug at her lips. Memories flashed through her mind. She remembered the whistling sounds of steel slicing through air, the desperate rush of wings, and sight of her Commander's axe cleaving through flesh and bone. But the memories left as soon as they appeared, and she shifted her attention back to Kiran's patient gaze. “It's Michalis.” After a second's worth of forethought, she added, “Prince Michalis.”

Because no matter the circumstances that fell upon Macedon, Michalis never was her King.

Her mind then drifted to her liege. Even after the war, Princess Minerva didn't feel much like a queen either. Minerva was her Commander and her closest friend. She would never hesitate to lay down her life for her liege. But while the Whitewings were forced to serve King Michalis for a time, she can't say that she would do the same for him.

Kiran gave a small hum, noticing the flier's hesitation. The glimmer in her eyes was still present. “Do you not like Michalis?”

Like? Palla had her own reservations about the crown prince of Macedon. A man who sacrificed his family for power, staining his hands with blood with his own father. A charismatic and ambitious leader that led the people of her country down the path of destruction, in hopes to become the strongest in all the continent. Only to be felled by one of his sisters and saved by the prayers of the other.

But hate? She have been serving under Minerva long enough to see the interactions between their royal family. Michalis was always rough with others, especially to Minerva. But she knew that the Macedon siblings had their own share of rare moments of affections, ones that were different than her own sisters.

There was one such moment that she caught a glimpse of it during her early days as a pegasus knight trainee. Minerva was once again defeated in a practice bout with her brother. Minerva was sprawled out on the grass, her training spear on the ground next to her. Michalis stood over her victorious, without a scratch to be seen.

She watched afar, knowing not to step too close lest they would notice. Instead of the usual lecture that Michalis always had at the ready at the end of their regular spars, he extended his hand to his sister. His ever-present scowl softened into the tiniest of smiles—one with barely concealed pride—that bewildered Minerva as well as Palla.

She watched young princess hesitantly took her brother's gloved hand and was brought up to her feet. The young prince spoke to her sister, and while Palla was too far to hear what he had told her, it wasn’t hard to miss how Minerva lit up from his words. Such a time seemed to be so out of reach, lost in the whirlwind of the past.

Palla was also aware of the feelings that both Minerva and Maria held for their brother. They adored him, idolized him. For a long time during the war, Minerva resented Michalis for his actions—murdering their own father in cold blood and allying with the enemy—and yet she constantly tried in her own way to bring Michalis back around, even if that meant cutting him down in battle to halt Macedon's march down the path of ruin.

Then there was Maria. Young, sweet Maria.

She willingly became a prisoner of war, used as a hostage to keep Minerva from openly rebelling against Michalis. Yet she had always stayed firm in her conviction to believe in her older brother. Palla saw how Maria wept for him when she bolted to his crumpled form lying pathetically on the ground as a mangled mess of limbs at the edge of the battlefield. Maria fell to her knees in a pool of the blood that flooded out of the gaping gash where Minerva’s axe cut down his torso. The enemy faction began to scatter, lost without the guidance of their leader.

Amid the chaos, Maria cradled in his head atop of Minerva's wyvern as they brought him to safety in a neighboring town, her white robes ruined with a filthy crimson thickened with mud that Palla knew that no amount of incessant scrubbing would lift off. Maria desperately tried to save him from the brink of death, going well beyond her own limits as a healer with a near constant stream of spells and prayers that lasted for days on end. She was so stricken with despair when Minerva finally had to pull her away, so they can continue their campaign. The look on Maria’s face would later plague Palla’s dreams at night, together with the oh-so familiar smell of death.

It was some time after Minerva ascended the throne that Palla realized that neither of them came to fully hate Michalis. Maria and her unwavering faith in the man aside, Minerva seemed to take on the same sour look on her face that Michalis wore day in and day out. She was a warrior first, having taken her studies for granted when she was younger. What was left of Macedon’s royal court and advisers was full of deception and corruption—seizing the opportunity to take advantage of Minerva’s lack of political experience.

Minerva was caught once again in a war—not of weapons and strength, but of wit and words. It pained Palla to watch her liege suffer so much and yet there was so little that she could offer. Being of commoner birth meant that she and her sisters only had the bare minimum of education.

Occasionally, Minerva would mutter under her breath after an exceptionally hard day with the courts.

_“What… what would Michalis do?”_

Then the coup to overthrow Minerva happened, with it came the winds of another war. The Whitewings aligned themselves with Prince Marth again in their effort to rescue their liege, but everyone was shocked to find Minerva safe in the magic city of Khadien. Even more startling was the fact that she was saved by her supposedly-dead brother.

Minerva didn’t talk too much about it, even when Palla inquired. But the fire that burned with fury behind her commander’s eyes begun to recede. When Michalis appeared in front of them again, not as an enemy but an ally, the flames were nearly extinguished. In its place were remorse, regret, and the faint gleam of hope that perhaps, Michalis was finally returning to her and Maria.

In a way, Palla understood. If either Catria and Est were to do something as horrific as Michalis had done, she would everything in her power to bring them back. She wouldn't forgive them for their actions—it wouldn't be right to simply forgive. She rather see them atone for what they did. She was their older sister, after all. It was probably the same sentiments that Minerva and Maria held for Michalis. And if her liege didn't hate the man, then Palla didn't have it in her do completely hate him herself.

But she would always know the grief that he caused them and what the legacy he left behind during his time as King of Macedon.

“I... wouldn't exactly call it 'hate,'” Palla finally replied, the words tasted strangely bitter on her tongue. “I don't think I can place my full trust in him, is all.”

Kiran nodded solemnly, “Of course. I understand. That I can agree with. I've come to know a little bit of the wars that ravaged Archanea after hearing the all the accounts in the barracks. I can only imagine that you and your sisters must've been through.” She stood up from her seat and Palla drew away from her chair as she did so. “As for Michalis... Well, he is an interesting man. Private as well. If only he would voice his concerns more often instead of keeping them to himself.”

Now that was an unexpected response. “Pardon?” Palla asked, not sure what to make of the Summoner's comments.

Kiran pursed her lips in thought as if she was contemplating something pressing her head. Finally, the summoner asked, “Do you have time before your patrol, Palla? There's something that I want you to hear.”

Palla blinked. “I do but...”

Kiran gave her a mysterious look and before Palla could say any more, there was someone knocking outside the door. One set of double raps and then another. Kiran pulled Palla into the direction of her closet near her bedside and opened the sliding door. “Here, stay inside for a bit.”

“Kiran?”

The Summoner gave her a gentle push, “It won't be for long, I promise. Just stay quiet and listen.”

When there was a second set of knocks outside, Palla moved into the closet, hearing Kiran's “Coming!” to the person on the other side of the door as she silently closed the closet.

The voices were slightly muffled but Palla could easily make out its owner. Rumbling, deep and low, almost like a growl. “Summoner,” Michalis barked, “where were you before the afternoon's meeting that you would be so damningly late? Holed up in your room again?”

She heard Kiran laugh embarrassedly, “Ah, I suppose I lost track of time. I was with Nino in the library, helping her with her reading lessons. She's becoming better and better by the day, you know?”

Michalis gave an exasperated huff. “Such trifling matters. You do realize it's only been a day since Embla last attack? It's no wonder why this war hasn't been progressing into our favor if you that's what you do in your spare time.”

Palla had half the mind to burst out of her hiding place were it not for Kiran's orders. Kiran was always busy with something, whether it be helping an ally around the castle or studying together with some of the other realm's tacticians, like the twin Robins from the World of Awakening. Michalis' claims held no weight behind it. But she held her tongue.

Kiran, however, didn't seem affected by the jab. “Oh, come now Michalis. If I don't get to know the people that I'm working with, I wouldn't know how to bring out the best of their abilities. You know that as well as anyone else.”

He huffed indignantly. “Regardless, it would for the best of the army that we make more progress. It doesn't take much for the tables to turn. We hardly know the enemies' plan or where they plan on striking next.”

“Yes, yes.” Shuffling and the sound of a drawer opening and closing, presumably from the desk compartment at Kiran's study. “Ah, right. Here. I finished the book that you lent me earlier. It was an interesting read, though I'll admit that I wasn't so enthusiastic about receiving a book about political warfare.”

“Keep it.”

“Oh? You don't want it?”

“I've no need for it.”

“Then you're giving it to me?

He scoffed and Palla could imagine him rolling his eyes at Kiran. “I never would have given it away if I truly wanted it. You are the one that is need of it the most if you plan on staying with the House of Askr.”

Kiran chuckled. “I supposed you are right. I guess I'll be keeping this for a little while longer.”

“Feh. Do what you wish. But I expect more from you. There's a war to be won.”

“There’s other things that are important than fighting.”

“If this is just some pathetic excuse for you to slack off, then save it.”

Palla had to strain her ears to hear what Kiran said next. “You know, Maria was there in the library with Nino,” she murmured.

Michalis remained silent. Kiran continued, “She's a bright girl. Before I was there, she was reading to Nino. They have regular meetings in there, with Maria as Nino's tutor.”

“Of course. Maria consistently excelled in her studies. She loves to read.” His voice was full of pride but then he paused. “Or at least she used to.”

“Used to?”

His voice took on a somber tone. “From what I remember. It's been... a long time since I have spoken to her.”

That struck Palla as odd. Maria came to the Order much earlier than Michalis. Princess Veronica and that mysterious masked man found a way to imprison certain Heroes. In the worlds that were held captive by Emblian forces, Heroes were forced under contract to fight for the young princess. In other cases, only particular Heroes were held captive under the influence of some trance-like state, like in the case of the World of Awakening's tactician, Robin, or the World of Conquest's Crown Prince, Xander.

Prince Michalis was one such Hero. During the battle, Kiran had deployed Maria in hopes that it might bring him to his senses. Once he was defeated, he joined the Order as soon as he recognized his youngest sister. Even after his defection from Embla, Michalis was still the gruff, ambitious man that Palla always knew. Perhaps a little colder than before. Yet, despite all his threats against the Summoner, Kiran took it all in stride and it was apparent that her capabilities in leading had impressed him enough to keep him in line.

Kiran was intriguing person to begin with. With all the heroes that they have met thus far, she always had a knowing gaze on her face whenever she was speaking to someone new. It was as if Kiran already knew about them even if it was her first time physically meeting them in person, Palla included. She never questioned it though. It was because of that knowledge that made Kiran an easy person to confide in, given enough time.

But it didn't fail to surprise Palla to see how quickly Kiran and Michalis bonded in such as short amount of time. Then much to Palla's chagrin, Michalis ended up being one of Kiran's most trusted war advisers. Michalis was an apt leader, fierce and unrelenting. His leadership was grounded in subjugating his subordinates, ruling with an iron fist. The Whitewings and Minerva became very familiar with it during his reign as king.

Fortunately, he doesn't have the same kind of power in Askr as he did as Macedon. The chain of command started from the Askrian royals, Alphonse and Sharena, to Commander Anna, and then to the Summoner. Michalis held no real authority beyond the battlefield.

However, Palla kept a hand on the hilt of her sword at the ready whenever she shared the same space with him. Kiran may trust him, but Palla did not.

A man capable of backstabbing his father—literally and figuratively—for power was certainly capable of doing it again.

“Maria would be more than happy to be with you. I'm sure of it.” Kiran said.

“Maria has Minerva now.”

“But Minerva isn't here. You are.” Kiran replied. And she has a point. Princess Minerva was yet to be summoned so Maria spent found companionship with others her age—namely the talented young mage named Nino and the shy Hoshidan Princess, Sakura.

But then again, she never thought about it before. She never saw Maria and Michalis in the same room for any longer than necessary. Michalis seemed to actively put distance between himself and Maria. It was like an unspoken agreement between them; whatever the reason for it was, she seemed to respect that.

Michalis remained firm on his stance. “Maria doesn't need me.”

“Maria is still young and you’re her brother, “Kiran insisted. “Surely, you can—”

“Enough!” Michalis snarled, causing Palla to flinch. “Listen here, Summoner. What goes on between us is none of your damned business. Don't think that for a second that you hold the authority to pry into lives of others simply because you are the tactician,” he ground out, his voice sharp and acerbic.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted, the air growing tense. Kiran simply let out an exasperated sigh, seemingly unaffected by his threats. “You can't run away from her forever. Maybe if you were back in Macedon, but not here. You'll have to come to terms with it sooner than later.”

Whatever Kiran meant by flew over Palla's head. Kiran seemed to be hitting all sorts of hidden sore spots that Michalis kept guarded.

Michalis wasn't interested in pursuing the topic further. “Don't go snooping into things that don't concern you, Summoner,” he warned. Palla heard the door knob turn. “Prince Alfonse intends on having another strategy meeting in the morning after the third morning bell. While he may allow your absences to slide, I won't abide for it. There are plenty of others in this so-called 'Order of Heroes' waiting to you to take a misstep. There are eyes watching your every move, Summoner, including myself. Take more caution if you wish to survive.”

The door shut behind him and the room fell silent for a few heartbeats.

Finally, Kiran spoke up. “Okay, Palla. You may come out now.”

Palla emerged from her hiding spot with nary a word. Kiran remained seated at her desk and gazed at her expectantly, gauging her reaction. Palla started uncertainly. “Kiran, um. What was that about?”

_Why did you let me hear all that?_

A wistful look settled on the Summoner's face, perhaps to mull over Michalis' words of parting. “When you were first summoned here, what did you think about?”

“…Honestly speaking, I was more fixated on returning back to my world rather than my being here.” Thoughts about how her sisters still needed her, her Commander, how there so much more work for her to do back at home, and how can she find a way to go back. “Why do you ask?”

“I would imagine that's what must be like for all the Heroes that wind up here. Myself, included. I always wondered why someone like me chosen to come here. Was I even chosen at all or if there really was any reason to it at all.” Kiran's hands fingered at the sleeves of her robes out of nervous habit.

“Kiran—”

“I know, I know,” She interrupted. “But it is truly is a remarkable thing, don't you think? Even someone such as myself can become a part of something as astounding as leading an army! It's just... strange.” She pursed his lips, as if contemplating on her next words. “It's just as strange and remarkable that a variety of people from different backgrounds, cultures, and lifestyles from all across time are able to gather together for a common goal. A miracle, really.

It's thanks to this miracle that we can talk together like this as well. Our past is carried with us when we are summoned. However, it doesn't necessarily have to bind us.”

Palla frowned, connecting it back to their conversation earlier. “Are you telling me that I should make peace with Prince Michalis?”

“Not if you don't want to.” Kiran’s eyes hardened and Palla's stomach twisted. “While our allies in the Order are technically on the same side, I understand that there are plenty among us that abide to it simply because they have no other option. Prince Alfonse and I won't go as far to enforce niceties, but we absolutely will not tolerate treason."

“You should tell that to Prince Michalis,” Palla muttered, purposefully loud enough for Kiran to hear. “If anything, I'm more worried about you.”

“You mean my relationship with him?”

“I understand that your intentions mean well,” Palla started, “but I would advise you not to become too close to that man. We're at war and he was originally sided with the enemy.”

Kiran frowned. “You think that he might betray us?”

Think? If it happened to King Osmond, then it's certainly possible for it to happen to Kiran. “If you know of my world's history, then you should already know what he is capable of. At very least, employ more prudence around him.”

Palla could see the conviction in Kiran's eyes, and then she remembered by for the briefest of moments, that the Summoner is still a child, not much older than Est. She hasn't experienced the same kind of cruelness that war brings, the same kind of harsh reality that Palla and her sisters survived through many times over. In that moment, Palla had to hold back the urge to scold Kiran for her naivety.

Instead, Palla gently took Kiran's wrists in her own hands and added, “I'm only telling you this for your own good. Just because you don't think that you won't have a knife twisted in your back doesn't mean it can't happen.”

Palla held eye contact with Kiran to help ram her words home. Kiran glanced down at their joined hands, her expression pensive. “I know.”

“Then promise me that you will be more careful. Please. For your own good.” she insisted. Besides Michalis, there were other more questionable Heroes that wound up within the castle walls. Kiran was not only a valuable person to ending the war but also a very precious companion to many. Palla wasn't about to lose another person that she holds dear. Not again.

“...All right. If you say it like that, then I guess I've no choice,” Kiran conceded.

“Good.” Palla let go of the breath that she didn't realize she was holding. She released Kiran's wrists.

“Hey, Palla?”

“Yes?”

“Do... Have you any regrets? Like, anything that you could've have done differently, if you could go back in time?” Kiran asked. “Once this war is over, eventually our time here might also be completed. So, I like to think that we should cherish our time here in Askr that whatever god brought about. Because of that, I think that several in the Order have plenty to gain during their experience here.”

“Kiran?”

“Think about it like this: For those that lived and died with regrets, perhaps being summoned to Askr may have its own set of benefits, hm?”

When it was time for Palla to take her leave, Kiran's words echoed in her head with every step down the dark cobblestone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, I have never played Shadow Dragon or New Mystery so a lot of this is based on the support convos and stuff I read about the games. After learning more about SD/NM characters, I grew to really love the relationships between the Whitewing siblings and the Macedon royals. So this story will kinda be like my interpretation of several characters and their motives, namely Palla and Michalis.
> 
> This fic is loosely based on my own experience with FEH. Thought I just throw that out there too.


	2. Chapter 2

It was well past nightfall by the time that Palla finished her night shift and returned to the stables. True to her word, Palla made a detour during one of her passes around the clear, darkened skies around the castle grounds to see Kiran. It took only a peek into her room for her to ascertain that the Summoner was, in fact, sleeping and not still busy with work.

The rest of the evening was silent, for the most part. Michalis brooded to himself, perhaps about his conversation with Kiran earlier. Palla didn't bother to ask about it—no fool would go off revealing that they were eavesdropping on things not meant for their ears. The less he knew, the better. Michalis wasn't much for pleasantries anyway, so Palla didn't have to worry too much about letting that little secret slip.

His strength and wit on both on and off the battlefield was enough to convince Kiran to appoint him as leader for the Askrian flier forces. In most battles, it was tolerable. He barked out orders left and right but no matter how infuriating it was to be bound to him as her superior, his loyalties prevented him from demanding anything too absurd acting out of line.

But loyalties be damned if they were not honored. Palla knew that from experience. Michalis was a man with a a track record of betraying his allegiances.

Then again, Minerva and the Whitewings were the ones that betrayed him in the end.

“Nice work today, girl.” Palla whispered as she stroked the mane of her steed. “Have a good rest.” She opted to wait beside her pegasus until the next riders appeared for their shift. When her pegasus nodded off, Palla gave her a chaste kiss on the muzzle.

It was during moments such as those that Palla can come to fully appreciate her decision to become a pegasus knight. Pegasi were patient creatures, with an undying loyalty to their masters. With the right care, they were one of the most reliable of steeds. Though the same can be said with any other mount, such as the wyverns that the fierce Macedonian dracoknights fly and the horses that the gallant cavaliers gallop into battle with, Palla found the most comfort around her noble pegasus. She was lifelong partner and companion.

“Oh, sis! You're back!”

Palla turned around. “Est! It's about time you showed up!”

“Aw posh, sis!” Est grinned brightly as she quickly saddled up her steed. “Y'know I wouldn't skip out on my work.” Which was true; Est was as talented as she was hard-working. If it wasn't for her child-like demeanor, Palla would feel more comfortable with allowing her youngest sister fight in so many wars.

“My apologies,” Tana said sheepishly, entering into the stables behind Est. “I nearly lost track of time when I was with Eirika and Ephraim.”

Palla knew how close Tana and Eirika were. When Tana was first summoned, Eirika was ecstatic. Princess Eirika and her brother Ephraim were the only ones in the Order from the World of Stones. It must’ve been a great relief to see a familiar face in an otherwise unknown environment.

The princess of Frelia was young but carried herself with an air of nobility. It might be due to her noble upbringing that made her seem a tad older than she really was. But she has great potential as a knight. With more practice, Tana would grow to be a force to be reckon with.

Palla gave her a sympathetic look. “No, do not dwell heavily on it. But punctuality is a virtue. It won't do with this becomes a habit, understand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Est replied, waving it off nonchalantly. “Oh, right! Did you notice anything in the skies?”

“No, not tonight. Except for the stars above. It's a beautiful evening to go flying.”

“That's good to hear! I'm sure Achaeus will love it,” Tana said. “Say, Est. If we have time, do you mind if you could give some tips? Perhaps ones that will help me fly better in battle?”

Est grinned broadly.“Of course I can!” She lightly pounded her chest with pride and gave her pegasus a pat on the head, “I'll show you what it means to be one of Macedon's finest pegasus knights! Hear that, Clover?”

“My, so eager,” Palla giggled. “It's fine that you train a little while on patrol, just remember that you have to stay alert for anything suspicious.”

“Yes we will, Lady Palla,” Tana answered.

“Please, no need for formalities with me. Simply 'Palla' will do,” Palla said. Hearing honorifics on her name still felt strange when it came out of the lips of the royalties from foreign realms. Having Minerva and Maria address her casually for so long must have spoiled her.

Tana smiled. “If that is your preference, then Palla it is.”

Palla locked the latch to her pegasus' stable. She turned around, eyes falling to her sister's back. Her eyes moved to the open stable entrance and then back at Est.

Est was going out again.

She was like a puff of smoke. Light and breezy but if you blink, she's gone. Just like what happened back at home. Where she never come back.

Weeks after the War of Heroes ended, Est vanished once more.

“Always a wayward one, that girl,” Catria mused upon finding her quarters empty one evening. “I'm sure she'll be back soon.”

It was rather normal occurrence that Est would go off on her own in short, spontaneous adventures, even when she was young. As a knight, her habits did usually lead her into the hands of the enemies. But the continent was at peace. She had a husband and a home to return eventually.

But when the days started to drag on to weeks, Palla started to become unable to stomach the feeling of dread that was pooling in the pit of her stomach. Something just didn't feel right.

The idea that Est might have somehow managed to be captured again plagued her thoughts. It wasn't too long ago that Palla and Catria traveled across the ocean to the continent of Valentia. By another twist of fate, the two of them joined forces with Zofia's hidden princess, Celica, who was more than willing to aid in their search for their lost sister.

It was when they finally broke through the desert defenses of the pirate king's citadel did the meaning of being captured by the enemy truly struck her.

Prisoners were disarmed and left vulnerable without a way to defend themselves. There was no privacy in the cells so whatever horrors befall on those unfortunate enough to be shackled inside was bared to be seen and heard by all that go past the halls leading to the dungeon. Inside the cells emanated with a foul stench from the waste that was not properly disposed of due to the lack of an adequate sewage system. Food was rationed just enough to survive on so that the prisoners were still marketable to slave owners that were willing to pay a pretty penny for a new addition to their property.

Est was young, cute, and resilient, which made her even more valuable to the slave trade. And while Est insisted that nothing so dreadful happened to her besides starving in a filthy prison cell, Palla gave thanks to Naga every day while they were in Valentia that Est was rescued before anything irreparable happened to her.

It was that same fear that drove Catria and Palla to exhaustion once the realization dawned that Est might never come back started to take root.

Both Prince Marth—who would shortly be crowned king, alongside with his betrothed, queen-to-be Princess Caeda of Talys—sent out waves of search parties that scoured the continent. And while Minerva resigned from her post as Commander, she still held enough influence among Macedon's army to aid in the effort. Regardless of the circumstances, Est was still a reknown pegasus knight and comrade among the ranks.

The searches failed of course—Est must have traveled far, far away to be able to avoid them. For her to go off like that was certainly a bizarre thing, even if she was more adventurous type out of the three.

This time however, it was not by pirates or by their enemies. As time wore on, it became increasingly clear to everyone that it was by Est's own decision that chose to leave. As the eldest out of the three, Palla was left constantly wondering _why_.

Was it her own shortcomings as the eldest? Did she neglect Est too much? Or maybe she was too overbearing on her?

_Or did Est find out about her sinful feelings towards her husband?_

During that time, Catria was only recently promoted to captain of the pegasus knights. She was to train the new recruits and aid in the reconstruction of the ruined towns that littered across the country. She spent every waking moment that she had during her days off to participate in her the search of Est, no matter how exhausted she was.

Abel, on the other hand, became as frequent as ghost sightings. Long expeditions with either him leading a search party or simply on his lonesome resulted in less frequent stays back at the Altean castle. That also equated into even fewer times that Palla was able see, much less talk, with the knight.

After the war, Abel changed. When Est disappeared, Abel was just as devastated as Palla and Catria. Prince Marth, always a gracious man, had never directly punished him after he took up his lance against his liege during the second war. Then the war concluded and Est vanished without a word. The viridian eyes that sparkled with mirth and life that Palla fell in love with was gone, leavings dark shadows in his gaze.

Despite it all, during the rare glimpses that she caught of him from away, she could not help but resent the way that her heart ached for him. To comfort him the only way that she could, and hope that perhaps, he would do the same for her.

As the possibility of Est returning became more and more unlikely, a part of Palla despaired at the thought that maybe Est truly did find out about her feelings for Abel.

When Abel left knighthood in order to continue his search, all Palla had left to prevent her heart from being crushed from the weight of it all was her duties to restoring her kingdom, helping Minerva and Maria at the convent, and Catria's presence.

_For those that lived and died with regrets, perhaps being summoned to Askr may have its own set of benefits, hm?_

Kiran must be on to something, Palla reasoned to herself.

As remarkable as it was to be summoned as a Hero to be in Askr, it also felt like a cruel joke that fate forced upon her.

Catria was second of the Whitewings to join with the Order of Heroes, not too long after her.

Then much to their surprise, Est appeared at the summoning altar together with Abel weeks later.

Palla and Catria stood stupefied near the alter with their feet frozen to the ground, sharing the same unabashed shock written clearly on their faces. The youngest Whitewing quickly whipped around, absorbing her new surrounding like a sponge before her. Then, as if she instinctively noticed her sisters nearby, her gaze stopped on her two sisters.

Est, like always, was the first of the three to react.

“Palla, Catria!” She excitedly jumped into her sisters' arms during their reunion, sending them crashing onto the ground.

Est had her arms wrapped tightly around her sisters, holding them almost uncomfortably together. Despite her small size, Est was surprisingly strong. She held them even tighter still, causing a chuckle to escape Palla's lips at Est's child-like demeanor. Catria yelped, smiling broadly despite holding back one of her usual chidings.

Est's voice was just as strong, unfazed by the fact that she just crossed time and space to wind up in a strange, new place. “I'm so glad you two here!”

Palla felt relief wash over her like a flood.

Est was here. She was safe.

Palla ran a hand lovingly through Est’s short, soft hair, another resting at the small of Catria’s back. Catria's arms encircled their waists, holding them close. To the others that was watching the cluster of Whitewings splayed out on the ground, it must have seemed silly. But how long has it been since they were last reunited? In the embrace of her two sisters, Palla nearly lost herself in the tender moment. Her mind raced with everything that that she wanted to say, repeating like a desperate mantra.

_Est, Est, Est. You’re here! Gods, do you know how much Catria and I were worried about you! You're not hurt, are you? Where were you? Where did you go? I love you, did you know that? Please don’t ever go away like that again. I love you so much, my dear little sister—_

Abel, who was content to watch the scene unfold, finally spoke up. “It's good to see some familiar faces. What a strange place that we've come to.”

His voice was enough to bring her back to reality.

It did not have the hollowness that the Abel who was still frantically searching every corner of the continent that she knew of from her world. Instead, it was the same warm, gentle voice of the man that kept a piece of her heart.

Shame festered in her consciousness and her heart drowned in it. It reminded her of her own weakness: how she yearned for the love a man that will never love her back and how that man was her precious sister's husband.

Her hand stilled. Est pulled away to look at her with bright eyes—so bright that Palla wanted to shield her eyes at its intensity, as if she was staring directly at the shining sun above. “Palla, what’s wrong?”

Everything started to come back to her like an unrestrained flood. That no, Est is here, but she's not _there_. Here in Askr, yes. But she was not quite the same Est that Palla was still waiting for in their Macedon.

“Nothing,” Palla managed, “I-I'm just so happy to see you again.”

Reality was shattered again.

As Kiran and Catria escorted the pair into their new quarters, Palla rushed into her own before her tears overcame her. She managed to pull herself back together by the time the evening bell was rung to for everyone to gather in the dining room for dinner but her red, puffy eyes betrayed the emotions that tore at her from within. Catria noticed—she was always the most perceptive one, even if she doesn't always voice her thoughts aloud—and Palla did her best not to let it overflow.

It was a few nights later that Palla and Catria asked Est about the events after the what was later known as the War of Heroes.

Where did she go? What happened?

Instead of answers, Est's expression was that of confusion. “What do you mean?” she said. “I've been with Abel this entire time. Don't you remember? After we left Valentia, Abel and I were going to up a shop!”

That same night, Palla also learned the more about the origins of the Catria that she thought was the same one that came from her own realm.

Catria had mentioned before that she was from a time after the War of Heroes. In her world, Commander Minerva and Princess Maria settled in Sister Lena's monastery after the wars. The rest of her story was so strikingly similar to Palla's that she didn't give it a second thought.

What really took her attention was that in this Catria's world, Prince Michalis was dead.

“How can that be?” Palla asked her, eyes wide. “I thought Michalis was alive. After the war, he simply left.”

The Prince Michalis that Palla knew of vanished soon after the end of the War of Heroes. With Michalis gone and Minerva renouncing the throne, it was call for new leadership to guide the country. Thus, Minerva decided to leave the future of Macedon in the capable hands of Marth in order to unite the rest of the battered continent.

Catria shook her head. “No, he perished during the war. From grievous wounds that... Well, I'm sure you know, sister,” she said vaguely.

_After he stole the sacred tome Starlight from the twisted mage, Gharnef._

Palla opened her mouth to ask more questions, but quickly clicked her jaw shut when Catria pursed her lips pensively. Catria nodded to Est, who was still staring at them owlishly.

Back when Palla was first summoned, Kiran explained to her that Anna made every new member of the Order of Heroes take a vow of secrecy.

To not divulge too much into the history and secrets about the world that they had come from.

Since the logistics of the summoning ritual was still a mystery, the confidentiality was necessity. Heroes were being summoned from all points of history and timelines. If a Hero were to sent back their world with knowledge of a future event or person, then it could potentially impact the integrity of their world's future—for better or for worse.

It was all speculation, of course. Palla was not sure on how much she could ask before she overstepped, so she let the questions die on her tongue.

No one could prove that any knowledge that was obtained during a Hero's stay in Askr would carry over when they leave. But for good measure, Anna chose to enforce it after the Order's encounter with “Marth.”

“Marth,” the masked youth that joined the Order during its first venture into the swirling storm of chaos called the Tempest, warning of the dangers of interfering with the flow of time.

“Time is not something that humans should tamper with. If it were possible, then I wouldn't have tampered with it under most circumstances, ” The mysterious warrior said somberly. “But it was the only way to change fate.”

Whether this Est was from another time or not, Est was still Est—her sister. So pure, so innocent.

Palla heaved a heavy sigh, shaking her head. It wasn't good to brood over it things out of her control, she reminded herself.

Tana glanced at the eldest Whitewing while Est finished saddling her mare. “Are you alright?” The Princess of Frelia asked.

“Ah yes. I suppose I'm just a bit tired, is all.”

“Don't overwork yourself too much. Even the finest of warriors must rest eventually.”

Palla locked her feelings away like she has done over and over again. “Yes, I know. How funny, I also had this conversation with Kiran earlier as well, except it was I urging her to take a rest.”

Tana smiled gently, her pegasus Achaeus flaring his great wings to their full length. “Then you must know better than anyone. Est and I will take care of the skies. Please, take care.” With that, Tana galloped into the night.

Est gave Palla a brief hug before mounting her own pegasus. “Okay, sis! I'll see you later when I come back!” Clover whinnied loudly and Est flew off behind Tana.

Once again, Palla is alone.

For the time being, there was no way to go back to her original world unless the summoner specifically chose to send her back. But Askr was in desperate need of help in order to protect the freedom of the rest of the realms. As worried as she was about the Minerva and Maria from her true homeland, it would go against her honor as a knight to ignore the war in this foreign land. So, she decided to fight.

If the world was a perfect place, Est and Catria never would have gone to war. They were both incredibly talented knights, Palla won't deny that. But Palla would have done anything to keep them away from the perils of the battlefield if that meant keeping them safe.

If they never went to war, they would have been able to go to school. Have a proper living. Fall in love and marry. Eventually start a family and live the rest of their days content and fulfilled. Instead, they have been ravaged by the cruelty of war several times over, have lost and grieved, and was torn apart again and again.

Est was close. So close to attaining that sort of normal sense of peace with Abel. But the chance of that happening again vanished when she did.

But in Askr, Est was at her and Catria’s sides again. By the off-chance that they can’t return to their original world, then she and Abel can have a fresh start. Catria as well.

While Askr may not be the home she yearned for, there must be meaning as to her purpose here. She and her sisters must fight for yet another cause, but it only reaffirmed her convictions.

Here, her sisters were not separated.

Here, Est and Abel can live happily with each other.

And if her sisters are happy, then Palla can endure all the pain in the world if she has to.

Because here, she was going to do her utmost to make sure that she never lost anyone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify the whole "being pulled from different times in history, despite being from the same world" bit; I imagined that since there's an supposedly unlimited number of universes out there, then it wouldn't so far-fetched of an idea that the same logic applies to Askr. Therefore in this story, Palla, Catria, and Est are each from different versions of the World of Mystery. If that makes sense. Where in Palla's world, Michalis survived until the end of New Mystery while in Catria's, he already passed away.
> 
> On a side note, was anyone else surprised that Catria got an alt for this year's spring banner? Can this be a sign that maybe, Palla has an alt in the works for a future banner someday? I sure hope so.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly, has it already been this long? The length of this chapter surprised me too. Like, I wanted to split it into two separate chapters, but I couldn't find a good place to do so, so uh, here it is? I also am incredibly hasty person so I had to fight with myself to spend more time to make sure that I work out the kinks more thoroughly. 
> 
> But I did manage to go back and clean up the previous chapters as well. So everything should be okay? I hope.

The sun was setting, blanketing the land with soft blends of orange and red. Kiran looked off in the distance. Days felt slower when the Order wasn’t scrambling around to fend off the enemy. They had returned to the castle hours ago after a quick excursion into the training tower off in the west. Night would fall soon, yet there was nothing to fear. For whatever the reason, Embla did not strike in the darkness.

A cool autumn breeze from behind sent a shiver down her spine. Sharena, who always eagerly accompanied her to each summoning ritual to meet the new Heroes as soon as they arrive, scooted closer to her side. She grabbed Kiran's arm, drawing their bodies close. Alfonse merely rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Are you cold, Kiran?” Sharena asked, her breath tickling the Summoner's ear.

Kiran smiled warmly. “I'm fine. I was never really good with dealing with the cold.”

“Ha! You don't say! Even with this thick coat of yours?” Sharena pinched the thin strip of cloth ribbing running across the length of Kiran’s shoulder to her collar. “Okay then, let's get this over with and I'll ask the Commander to have whoever is on cooking duty tonight to whip you up a good, hot bowl of soup!”

“Heh, thanks.” The summoner turned to the altar. “Est, Klein! Are the preparations complete?”

Est gave her a quick salute. “We're all good to go here!”

Klein dropped the last of their remaining orbs out of his rucksack. “We might have enough for several summoning rounds, from the looks of it. Oh, oops.” He noticed a runaway orb rolling slowly away from the pile from his sharp peripherals. The young archer general picked it up, scrutinizing it carefully in his gloved hands. “Still, no matter how many times I watch this, it never fails to boggle my mind at how simple it is to pull someone from another world out of thin air.”

“Sometimes, I do feel bad about it,” Kiran said, shaking her head. “As you said, we are pulling strangers out their own worlds. And making them fight in another war when they could just as well be fighting in one already. It's not always easy to go about asking them to join our cause.”

Sharena sighed. “Yes, that's true. But at this point, we don’t have any other options left to choose from. Since Father has most of the royal army fighting on other fronts, we can’t rely on him to lend us as much aid.”

Alfonse rested his hand on Kiran's shoulder that wasn't occupied by Sharena. “If any of them are so adamant on returning to their realms, then we can promptly send them back. However, in the case that any of them give you trouble, you can count on us to be here to protect you.”

Sharena gave Alfonse a wry grin. “Oh? Look at you, acting so big. And here I thought you were just a benchwarmer—”

“I am not—”

“Okay, okay! Let's stop right there!” Kiran interjected quickly, removing herself before she could become stuck in the middle of another sibling banter. She cleared her throat, “I’ll go ahead to start the summoning now,” she said, gesturing to Klein.

He nodded back at her in affirmation, shuffling away from the pile of orbs with Est in tow. Kiran took the Breidablik out of from her deep coat pocket, pointing at the large stone tablet at the center of the altar.

The five colored stones embedded in the tablet glowed with a soft light. An odd feeling welled up in the core of her chest, tendrils of an unknown power reaching to every fiber of her body and soul. Murmurs and whispers of otherworldly spectres echoed through her mind.

The orbs laid out on the altar began to disappear, dissolving into the expanding light gushing from the tablet. The light flowed into the Breidablik like a river, its radiance concentrating into its barrel.

Keeping a steady hand on the relic, Kiran pointed it towards a clear spot on the altar and pressed the trigger.

The light dammed up inside the Breidablik shot out and exploded, its intensity blinding all that were watching. Kiran's vision swam, and her body crackled with a foreign power as if she was jolted awake with a crack of electricity.

When her eyes refocused, the orbs were gone and the colored stones in the tablet were shattered into pieces on the ground. In their place stood several figures. One of them, clad in striking scarlet armor and accompanied by a fearsome wyvern with scales the color as rich and deep as the lush forests that surrounded the castle, took notice of Kiran and strode towards her. Alfonse and Sharena readied their weapons in defense, but the Summoner lowered them back down with her hands when she recognized the engraving on the warrior’s gleaming axe.

While seeming slightly disheveled, the crimson warrior regained her composure quickly. She eyed them suspiciously, but she spoke with a proud voice.

“I am Minerva, Princess of Macedon.”

 

* * *

 

“Palla! Catria!”

The two older Whitewings, chatting peacefully down the grand castle halls turned immediately at the sound of their youngest sister. Est flew down the falls, her steps pounding loudly on the concrete tiles. “Ooh, you won't believe what just happened!”

“Easy now,” Catria said, already feeling overwhelmed from her energy. Est was practically shaking with excitement. “What's gotten into you? You found a holy thousand-year old wyvern fang that can grant miracles in one of the town vendors or something?” She teased, preparing for another one of Est's ludacris discoveries at the nearby markets.

“Oh gosh, Catria! Don't be such a sourpuss! And no, I didn't find anything at the shops today.” Est said, rolling her eyes but her wide grin didn't leave her face. “Anyway, right! I was just with Kiran and the others to watch one of the summoning rituals. Annnd, someone amazing appeared!”

“While I am quite flattered by your enthusiasm, you don't have to go out the way to announce it to everyone.” A very familiar voice said from behind Est. Palla’s and Catria’s eyes grew wide with unabashed astonishment as soon as they saw the distinct crimson armor.

At the sight of the trio, Minerva let out a short, amused chuckle. “What's the matter, you two?” Her expression softened as she addressed them. “Palla. Catria. It's been a while, hasn't it?”

“Commander!” They blurted out simultaneously, their disbelief getting ahead of their composure. _Though_ , Palla thought, _it really shouldn't be so surprising in the first place._ She found that the longer that she remained in the Askr, the more that she began to believe that the possibility she could quite possibly reunite with everybody that she fought together with during the wars of Archanea and Valentia was perhaps much more likely than she originally believed.

Catria was the first to between the two of them to break out of her wordless stupor. She hastily cleared her throat. “Commander,” she greeted cordially, her back snapping straight at attention in an attempt to regain her professionalism in front of her liege.

Minerva waved a hand to dismiss her. “At ease, soldier. There's no need to such formalities here. In this land, we are equals—from what I understand. I am not your leader, nor are you my subordinate.”

“As true that may be, you are our Commander first,” Palla said. “No matter the time or the place, your wellbeing and safety will always be at the foremost of our thoughts.”

“Hm. As dutiful as always. But please, simply 'Minerva' will do when we are alone like this. I’ve heard that there’s a different commanding officer that holds that title in this land.” Minerva said gently, addressing all three of them but her eyes lingered on Palla.

“O-of course. Co—I mean, uh, M-Minerva.” Catria uncharacteristically stuttered. “Apologies, Commander. It might take getting used to.”

“Aw, you're so stiff!” Est looped her arms around her sister's elbows. “Commander Minerva finally arrived. You should look happier about it!”

Catria used her free arm to ruffle Est's hair, “Of course we're happy. We just don't express it as exuberantly as you do.”

“On the contrary, if I were to see Catria jumping up and down with excitement, I’d think that I might've gone crazy.” Minerva teased, causing Catria to flush slightly, the tips of her ears reddening. “But yes, don’t force yourself. If you find it more comfortable, then you may continue to address me your commander.”

Palla giggled. It had been a long while since she seen Minerva so relaxed, not since she last saw her and Maria back at Lena’s priory.

A thought struck her at the reminder. As joyful their reunion was, there was probably something else that Minerva needed to attend to first. “Say, Minerva. Have you gone to see Maria yet?” Palla asked.

The wyvern rider shook her head. “Not yet. Est was giving me a quick tour of the castle before she brought me to you. The so-called Summoner of this realm—Kiran, was it?—had just finished explaining to me the situation of this world and my being here. I was on my way to go find Maria when I had learned that she was here as well... It's been a long time since I have seen her face.”

That begged another question that was at the tip of Palla's tongue. “If I may be so straightforward then, from what time were pulled from when you were summoned?”

Minerva grew silent, her expression stony. “I... Perhaps you may already be familiar with what’s happened in Archanea if what the Summoner said was true. It was shortly after I rejoined with Prince Marth, and you two as well.” She said, giving a curt nod towards Palla and Catria.

“Then... After we found you in the desert village of Khadein?” Catria supplied cautiously.

Palla pieced the rest together in her head. The city-sanctuary of Khadein was where Prince Marth and the others were forced to retreat after reclaiming the Fane of Raman. The main force of the Archanean army was nipping at their heels and eventually had managed to corner them on the Chiasmir Bridge, led by Emperor Hardin.

Archanea's Emperor Hardin was a once-honorable and humble man that fought by Marth's side during the first war. When he was crowned Emperor of Archanea with Princess Nyna as his queen, the continent appeared to be ready to be ushered into a new age of peace and prosperity.

Yet that peace would prove be only a fleeting moment before it came tumbling down at the sudden rise of a new war, unexpectedly instigated by the newly-crowned Emperor himself. Marth and his army returned to liberate Archanea again to put an end of the reign of the tranny. However, it was much later on during the campaign that it was revealed that Hardin's soul was corrupted by malicious forces.

With a stroke of luck and quick thinking, Prince Marth and the others managed to escape the Dark Emperor to board the ships that led to the desert mage-country of Khadein—and as they would soon find out—Minerva.

If what Minerva said to be true, then the fate of Maria and the rest of their world was still on the precipice of disaster.

“Then,” Minerva continued when she noticed Palla stiffened, “I take it that you’re not from the same ‘world’ that I am from?”

“I’m guessing that Kiran has already explained to you about this land’s summoning ritual?”

“She spoke about it briefly with me and the others that I have arrived with.”

“Then yes,” Palla confirmed, “From the sounds of it, you and I are from different parts of Archanean history, though not very far apart in time. That being said, technically my sisters and I are also of different ‘worlds’ as well.”

Minerva frowned. “How… odd. To come from the same land, yet to be so different at the same time.” When Catria seemed to have something else to mention, Minerva quickly interjected. “Do not fret. I do not intend on inquiring more about… the fates of your individual worlds. Kiran made it clear that it is not a topic that shouldn’t be discussed so openly.”

Catria nodded before stealing a glance at Est, the one who would be the most likely candidate to be unable to keep information under wraps. The curiosity painted on her face was as clear as day but thankfully the youngest of the Whitewings seemed to understand that it wasn’t in her place to pursue the matter further.

“Ah!” A voice exclaimed from a distance. The group turned around to see Askr's Commander Anna walking towards them with the Order’s messenger owl, Feh, hovering above her head in tow. “There you all are! I was wondering where everyone went off to.”

“Commander Anna,” Catria greeted. “Is something the matter?”

“No, no. Nothing too serious. There is a strategy meeting that will be taking place in the main conference room soon. Kiran wanted to know if you wish to attend, Princess Minerva. As a fellow commander, I thought that it would be nice to have a fresh face to the table, not to mention that it'll be the fastest way to get you up to speed with what's going on.” Anna winked playfully at the Whitewing sisters. “And of course, you three are welcome to sit in, if you feel like joining the rest of us.”

“I suppose it would do me some good to listen,” Minerva agreed. “While I don't know how much I may be able to contribute to the discussions, I imagine that there is much I have yet to learn about this place. Very well, please relay to the Summoner that I will be in attendance.”

“Wonderful! That's the spirit!” Anna grinned and Feh gave a quick “ _hoo_ ” in agreement. “And how about you sisters?”

Est clapped her hands together and gave an apologetic look. “I'm actually helping out with cooking duty tonight, so I'll have to leave soon to prepare dinner. I’m making my world-famous beef stew for Kiran to try!”

“I'll also have to pass on the invitation,” Catria added. “I told Florina and Shanna that I would help them tend to the pegasi.”

“That's alright then,” Anna said. “And what about you, Palla? Are you available?”

“I... haven't made any other plans for this evening.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Though I'm not sure if it’s in my place to go.”

“Nonsense,” Minerva said immediately. “You've seen and fought as just as many battles as I—perhaps even more if you want to count the battles that you've participated in while being in this realm. You helped lead our proud Macedonian pegasus knights many times before during our own wars back at home as well. You contributed your leadership plenty of times with Prince Marth and me before. You're more than qualified to be at the strategy table here as well. There's no need to be so modest.”

“She's right,” Catria affirmed. “Both you and Commander Minerva lead us Whitewings, sister. You, especially, are one of the more the capable fliers in the army. It doesn’t hurt to stay informed about what’s to come for future missions to better lead us in battle.”

Palla felt her cheeks warm from their words. Anna gave Palla a hearty slap on her back as encouragement.

“You hear that? So, how about it?”

“Well…”

“Tell you what, all you have to do is to take a seat and listen. You don’t even need to say a word if you don’t feel like it. The more you know about what’s to come, the better.”

Palla lifted her arms up in defeat lightheartedly. “All right, all right. I suppose I don’t have much of a choice at his point. I’d be honored to take part in the meeting tonight, Commander Anna.”

“Excellent!” Anna grinned. “Now, normally I would go and escort you ladies over the conference room, but there are a few stragglers that I still need to wrangle up. Palla, you know the way, don’t you?”

“It’s the room next to the throne room, yes?”

“That’s the one!” Anna started to pull away from the group. “Feh here will be our correspondence to Kiran so she’ll know that you two are coming. I’ll head over there in a jiffy. If I don’t see you either of your faces there, you’ll regret it in the morning!” She said, nodding to the little messenger owl. Feh chirped gleefully and started to fly in the direction of the Summoner’s room.

“Guess this is our cue to take our leave too,” Catria said.

“Yup. Lady Titania will give me an earful if I’m late,” Est groaned.

They exchanged farewells for the time being with a shared sense of lingering regret as they went their different paths. Admittedly, Palla wished for all of them to stay and catch up for a bit longer.

Even the walk to the conference room felt too short. Maybe she overindulged herself after being without Minerva’s company for so long. Minerva had plenty of questions to ask and Palla was happy to oblige, recounting some of her accounts of recent events to her liege.

There was a fondness in Minerva's voice despite her sparse words. It was the same tone that she spoke with her when they were speaking in more private spaces. Over the many years that Palla has been serving as a pegasus knight of Macedon and then later as a knight under Princess Minerva, the two of them developed a strong friendship.

As close they were, Palla's standing as a knight and as a commoner meant that she needed to keep up a fair bit of distance between them while in public. It made the moments that they shared together when they were alone more intimate—different than that of with her sisters.

But the closer they approached the room, the more that Palla felt that she forgot to mention something important.

It was when they entered that Palla finally remembered, albeit too late. Minerva’s body froze up in that same moment, her eyes going down the aisles to catch the attention of an all-too familiar face.

Michalis’ eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected sight of his sister. But he quickly tore his gaze away from her as if he had seen something unsightly, letting out an audible huff.

Minerva gaped openly as her brother like a fish out of water. Before she could formulate anything to say, the Summoner rushed noisily inside the room with the mysterious “Marth” and Anna closing the door behind her. Palla hastily pulled Minerva over to the side to sit at the open seats. From the corner of her eye, she saw Minerva reluctantly pull her gaze away from her older brother. Looks like she’ll have to explain a few things to her later.

Looking around the room, it wasn’t surprising to Palla to see the people that were gathered inside. Many of them were royalty of the other lands, tacticians, or great commanders in their own right. Palla knew of her own personal achievements and held great pride in them but she couldn’t help but feel out of place being in the presence of such a distinguished group of individuals.

Anna handed out several documents to Alfonse and Sharena and Kiran moved towards the front of the room, clearing her throat. “Now that everyone seems to be all situated, let’s go ahead and begin. First, I’ll go over our recent skirmish in Nifl.”

The war with Embla was certainly different than the ones that she fought in back in her own world. The wars that ravaged the across the lands of Archanea were fierce and hectic. It was a constant race against time as their enemies chased them across the continent and the ever-looming threat of the resurrection the evil god. Minerva in particular, struggled to keep her emotions in check once they discovered that Maria was under the influence of Gharnef’s mind-control and made to be a sacrifice to Medeus. Had Marth and his army arrived at the altar where Gharnef was going to sacrifice those four maidens even a half a day late, not only would they would have lost Maria but the entire war.

Princess Veronica on the other hand was an oddity. Her attacks were as erratic as her tantrums. Invasions came like a tornado, leaving destruction in their wake and sending the Order in a frenzy. But eventually her attacks began lacked any intention to turn the tide of the war into her favor, like a child playing with her food at the supper table.

The sudden appearance of the trickster Loki made the situation even more complicated. Embla’s tactics became even more dangerous than before. The attacks, while still sporadic, felt more purposeful and with more conviction. With the mysterious Loki behind the reins, there was no doubt that there was more to this war than Princess Veronica’s desire to destroy Askr.

Despite that, the sense of frantic desperation that Palla became so familiar with was often dulled with a facade of peacefulness. One of the strange powers that the Summoner’s relic held was the ability to instantly warp to locations that they visited before. The army didn’t have to tirelessly march to reach their next destination or stop to make camp. As long as Kiran remained with them, sending their forces back and forth from the castle to the battlefield was easy. Thanks to that, it freed most of the Heroes who were on standby to spend their time as they saw fit. More often than not, a good chunk of their time was spent within the castle walls or around the capital rather than in battle.

Then through a series of events, Princess Veronica had come to ally with the slaughterous king of Múspell, Surtr. Princess Fjorm of Nifl came to Askr for help in defeating Surtr after the bloody assault on her kingdom that led to the horrible murder of Nifl’s queen and the disappearance of her siblings. With Nifl as weakened as it was, Kiran decided to keep several teams on watch in Nifl to help any surviving townspeople find shelter and to stay on guard.

Alfonse was the first to speak. “Yes. A few days ago, Prince Marth and Prince Ephraim led several skirmishes on the outskirts of the Nifl’s capital.

“Our group was rushed over at the signs of smoke,” Ephraim continued. “It seems that it was just a group of bandits, seemingly unrelated to Múspell or Embla. Prince Marth and I made it in time to fend off the enemy and secure as many citizens as we could, however, there was still a few casualties by the time of our arrival.”

Palla grimaced. It wasn’t uncommon to see a spike in pillaging and looting in a country that was devastated by war. Villagers that were displaced by the wars were usually forced to seek refuge in larger towns. That also meant they were prime targets for bandits that laid in wait for unguarded travelers. In other cases, some people turn to a life of crime themselves in an attempt to survive in desperate times. It was simply the sort of problem that would only escalate further until the country begins its restoration process.

“Our apologies, Princess Fjorm. If only we noticed sooner, we could have saved everyone,” Marth added when he noticed Nifl’s princess visibly tense.

“No, there’s nothing to apologize for,” Fjorm relaxed into her chair, knowing the well-intentions of the Athean Prince. “You did what was in your power.”

“Indeed,” Alfonse continued, “While we cannot spread our forces too thinly, we will do what we must to ensure the safety the people of Nifl.”

A loud scoff came from across the strategy table. “Must you always be so sappy every time something like this happens? This is no need to go over such trifling matters,” Michalis’ voice was pointed and direct, complete with a dour expression plastered on his face. Palla flinched at the harsh words.

At her side, Palla could see Minerva frown, one of her hands balled into a tight fist under the table. Certainly not because of a pleasant family reunion.

It was a clear instigation on Michalis’ part, but Alfonse didn’t take the bait. “I believe we have different stances on the matter so let me explain. We, as rulers over our lands, hold a responsibility to our citizens. Just as they serve us with their work ethic and commitment to our country, we must uphold our promise to peace and prosperity. It is because of this that we can continue to have progress and development.”

“You need not lecture me on how to govern a country,” Michalis snapped. “We are at war. There is no need to take pause in every life that is lost. If the situation calls for sacrifices for us to claim victory, then so be it. The time we spend grieving is more time wasted that could be used on things that are more important, like planning our next steps in the war.”

“Perhaps that may be true,” Minerva spoke up, taking Palla off-guard. She could see Prince Marth’s eyes widen in surprise across the table, seemingly to only notice the Red Dragoon in the room now. “But that does not mean that any of those lives are without value. We should always endeavor to try to protect those that cannot protect themselves.”

“Winning should always be our top priority. If going out of our way to save every person we see will put our chances at risk, then they are nothing more than liabilities.” Michalis shot back, bristling.

“You may be willing to leave those people to die, but I won’t,” Minerva said firmly. “If it’s within my power, then I will do whatever I can to save them. A person’s life is not a liability and it never will.”

“How admirable.” Prince Xander of Nohr asserted, nodding at Minerva. Palla remembered how disconcerting it was to see him with the Order for the first time. It was now common knowledge among the ranks that the Xander that Kiran had brought into the Order was different from the one that served Princess Veronica. “I commend you for your chivalry. Though I believe that this is the first time I have seen you around. May we have you introduce yourself?”

“I am Princess Minerva of Macedon from the World of Shadows.”

“Of Macedon, you say…” Xander quickly glanced at Michalis, probably already making the connection between the two. “I am the Crown Prince of Nohr, Xander, from the World of Conquest. I will say that I do agree with your sentiments, at least to an extent. As one of the royal family from your own world, I’m sure you understand. As a leader, one must make difficult decisions. If we are forced into a position that will endanger our decisive victory, then we must make the decision that is for the greater good of the people.”

“Of course,” Minerva replied evenly, her expression steely. “I am not so naive to think that I am capable of saving everybody. I will never hesitate in my duty. Ask—and it will be done if that is the wish of the Summoner.”

Xander held his hands out in front of his torso. “Peace, friend. I mean no offense. I simply wanted to make sure of your position and reaffirm ours as the Order of Heroes. If what I said offended you in any way, then I apologize.”

“Minerva,” Palla whispered, tugging lightly on her sleeve.

Minerva glanced at her and then at her brother but Michalis instantly broke eye contact with her again. She exhaled sharply. “No… You did nothing wrong, Prince Xander. I let my emotions get the best of me. I let many of my own people suffer due to my own helplessness. That’s why if there was something I could do in this world to save those in need, I want to devote myself to that cause.”

Xander nodded solemnly. In his eyes were empathy and the faintest hint of sadness. His voice took on a somber tone. “I share in your sentiments. I too, know the feeling of being unable to protect those that one cares about.”

“Yes, I’m sure everyone here knows the feelings of being unable to save the things that they hold dear,” Prince Ryoma of Hoshido added from across the table. “Whether that be their citizens or even members of their own families. In a similar light, I would like to take this moment to commend Prince Alfonse. Thanks to his through preparations and quick-thinking, many people were saved from suffering a cruel fate.”

Palla nodded quietly to herself. When Surtr threatened to murder the people of a nearby town, it was Alfonse that outwitted him.

It was close call though. Right before they made it into Nifl, they were unfortunate enough to run into King Surtr. Even worse was that he forced Alfonse to choose between saving his citizens from being burned alive by Surtr’s ravenous flames or progressing their campaign into Nifl.

Somehow Alfonse managed to send word out in time to have the townspeople evacuate before the flames reached them. Palla didn’t know whether Alfonse planned on that ahead of time or not, but it was certainly a crowning moment for the young Askrian prince.

“As much as I would like to continue this conversation, I believe we still have other matters to discuss.” The masked enigma, “Marth,” cut in. He looked to Kiran to continue, who responded with a nod of her head. “Then let us continue on. Our scouts report that there has been an appearance of another Tempest somewhere in the lands of Nifl.”

“Marth” then passed the baton to Kiran, who led the rest of the meeting for the remainder of the time. Acknowledging that Nifl is still an unknown land most of the Order, Fjorm was chosen to lead the charge into the Tempest. Second-in-command was the newly-summoned Ike—that of which was a bit older than the one that was already residing in the castle. He was hailed as a legendary hero in his world, one that pulled together two warring kingdoms together into a new era.

Considering his renown, Palla figured that this was Kiran’s best way to gauge his strength.

Similar to previous Tempest engagements, various teams that Kiran organized would be fighting in rotation, including Palla herself. That explained Anna’s insistence to have her sit in the meeting.

She was to be in the team with Princess Fjorm and the young Princess Sakura of Hoshido. But to her chagrin, Palla, unfortunately, found herself paired up Michalis yet again. When Kiran announced the teams, Palla had to restrain the urge to recoil from the thought.

The meeting ended with little fanfare and it felt as if Palla just ran a marathon. Minerva was no worse for wear. After the brief scuffle with Michalis, Minerva was unable to relax for the rest of the meeting.

As everyone filtered out of the room, the two exchanged small, tired smiles. At least now they were free to catch up on lost time over a hearty dinner together with Catria, Est, and Maria. Perhaps she could take Minerva to Prince Marth to greet, now that he knew of Minerva’s arrival.

“Palla!”

Or not. It was like she somehow became popular overnight, considering the number of the people that needed to find her today.

At the sound of her name, she turned around to see Kiran walking briskly towards them, dragging a very begrudging Michalis behind her by the arm. From the corner of her eye, Palla noticed the frown returning to Minerva’s lips.

Palla inwardly sighed. Nothing was ever that simple, was it?

Taking it as a sign that the Summoner wanted some privacy with the eldest Whitewing, Minerva nodded silently to Palla and went on ahead. She made a mental note to explain more about the people in the Order to Minerva whenever she found the chance.

When Kiran finally caught up, she breathed out a loud exhale. Her arm was still looped around Michalis in an attempt to prevent him from leaving. His expression was already sour and the scowl on his face only deepened as he watched Minerva’s retreating figure.

“Summoner!” He barked, “What do you think you’re doing? The meeting was already adjourned, and you still want to consume more of my time? And _don’t_ touch me!” Michalis forcefully jerked his arm back, causing Kiran to stumble forward.

“I thought I told you this morning that I wanted you to stay behind for little bit after the meeting!”

“If it was so important, you should’ve mentioned it _during_ the meeting.”

“I figured that it would be more appropriate to tell the two of you in private instead.”

Michalis clicked his tongue in annoyance, crossing his arms across his chest. Yet Kiran didn’t seem to take it to offense. Palla mentally praised the young Summoner for her patience with the irritable man. If Michalis were to act that disrespectfully to herself, Palla wouldn’t know if she would be able to keep her calm composure.

“Anyway,” Kiran began, “the reason why I called you out here is that I need the both of you to work together during the battles in the Tempest.”

Palla quirked an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it already discussed that Princess Fjorm was going to be about our team’s leader?”

“Yes, that’s right; Fjorm will have the final say in the decisions since we might be up against someone related to Múspell. But she is a relatively new recruit in our army and it doesn’t seem like she has the same kind of experience you or Michalis has with leading a team.”

_That was a fair decision,_ Palla thought. Royalty she may be, that didn’t automatically place her in a position higher than any other new members to the Order. It was a principle that Prince Alfonse stood firmly on. While Fjorm certainly proved that she had the combat capabilities and the wits to justify her skills, that wasn’t enough to have to slide to the top of the command chain. While Kiran gave her temporary command while they were navigating around Nifl, it seemed more than enough for the Princess to work with the Order to take down Surtr.

Palla had little experience with working with Fjorm and had faith that she would rise to the task. Despite that, Palla still felt uneasy, especially considering who she had to work with. “With all due respect, Kiran,” Palla started, “I don’t think our ‘styles’ of leadership are… compatible.”

Without a doubt, Michalis certainly has an advantage over her in terms of military tactics due to his upbringing. But having the two of them together will inevitably lead to them butting heads often. Victory and power were everything to him, even it meant sacrificing his loved ones. As Macedon’s king, he was known to put soldiers that he thought were more reluctant to fight on the frontlines to make a point out of them to the rest of the army.

King Osmond maintained a fragile balance of peace with the townspeople and a somewhat modest-sized army to keep with the Macedon’s tradition of being a “warrior nation.” Michalis, of course, steadily expanded on the country’s military force even as a prince. The sudden ascension of Michalis to the throne as well as the onset of war led to a hasty and exponentially large influx of recruits. That also meant that there was a fair amount of them that hardly had enough training to survive out on the battlefields or lacked the mental fortitude to even wield a weapon. What Michalis really intended was to send those soldiers to their deaths as sacrifices or as bait in order to clear the field for the more experienced battalions to fight on. It proved to an effective strategy—Macedon managed to conquer more land that it ever had before and become one of the main leaders in the war.

But it was terribly barbaric. Palla knew firsthand how horrific it truly was while she was under the command of one of Michalis’ generals. Their eyes spoke volumes of their despair. Those that somehow survived their first battles were haunted by their fear, driving them mad. If they were unable to conquer that fear by the next march, they were made easy targets by the enemies, who mercilessly cut them down like wolves tearing off the heads of fowls.

The terror that was etched on their faces, knowing that they were quite literally marching to their deaths, still haunted her dreams at night when she had an exceptionally tiring day. Macedon primarily had a rugged, mountainous landscape but still managed to hold a sizable population. In the end, the lives of the soldiers were expendable as long as victory was attained.

Kiran’s eyes flickered to Michalis in anticipation, quickly catching to the meaning behind Palla’s words. Michalis seemed largely unaffected by it. “Well, I suppose I should clarify. I’m not really asking you to lead the team, per se. We generally don’t have very large teams dispatch at once anyway,” Kiran said.

“So? What then, Summoner?” Michalis’ patience was already as thin as a piece of parchment and Palla’s fingers ghosted over the pommel of her sword at her hip. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you while you gather up your thoughts. Just come out and say it.”

“I… Actually, first of all, do you know why I decided to put you two for this mission?”

Palla blinked. She never really thought about it before. But now looking back, Michalis and herself tended to be paired up together whenever Catria or Est was unavailable. So, were all those times deliberate? Even the nightly patrols?

“Logically speaking,” Kiran continued, “any one team has a better chance of winning if the all the members of the team are able to work effectively together. Seeing that you and Palla are already familiar with each other’s combat styles, I thought that having you two together would be an optimal choice.”

Palla couldn’t really disagree there. Out of all of her previous experiences, being a part of the Whitewings with her sisters was naturally the best team that Palla felt the most comfortable in. Palla had her fair share of circulating around various team members and compositions during her stay in Askr. Eventually, she landed into the role of being cleanup in an all-flier squad with Catria, Cherche, and Shanna. As the Order grew larger and Cherche and Shanna were deployed in other missions. Michalis eventually filled up one of the missing spots in their four-man teams, with the last spot kept open to whoever had the abilities that best fit the situation.

While their ideologies and personalities may have clashed, Michalis was a surprisingly efficient partner in battle and they covered each other’s weaknesses well. Fliers were prime targets to shoot out of the skies by archers. The Iote’s Shield, a cherished artifact wielded by Macedon’s founder that Michalis happened to keep in his possession, made him the best guard against deadly arrows—thus Michalis was usually the one to lead the charge into enemy territory. Catria followed behind his tailwind, her strong defenses allowed her to help parry off attackers.

Out of the three of them, it was Palla’ pegasus that had the highest innate resistance to magic, making her the best choice to cleave through dangerous mages. Their backgrounds as the top fliers from the same countries made their teamwork nearly seamless as compared some of the other Askrian groups that were usually experimentally grouped together. And no matter how infuriating it was to listen to his goading, Michalis was an effective leader for their small team.

Regardless of the overall team synergy out on the field, Catria and Palla always maintained a healthy amount of distance with Michalis. There was no need to have their personal grudges affect their everyday lives if they were going to live in the same castle with him. They were still professionals and having a sense of civility never hurt. Catria wasn’t much for idle small chat anyway so confrontations weren’t much of a problem. That left Palla to act as the mediator for the group whenever the need ever arises, which was thankfully not very often.

Michalis’ frown never left his face. “So, you’re asking us to babysit the new girl, is that it, Summoner?”

“No… Uh, not exactly?”

“Then what about that child that you’re making us bring? We’ve no need for a healer for this mission, much less a child that will only slow us down.”

“You mean Sakura? She’s an exceptional healer and—”

“—And she’ll only get the way,” Michalis ground out. “She’s too weak!”

“Hey, watch your tongue!” Palla intervened. “Lady Sakura is one of the most reliable healers that the Order has. You have no right to slander her name when you know just as well as I of her capabilities.”

“The girl can barely defend herself, much less stand on the same battlefields that I fight on. If I could, I would throw her out on the frontlines—”

“You won’t,” Unable to tolerate it any longer, Palla stood in between Kiran and Michalis, drawing her sword and pointed it at Michalis. “I won’t let you lay a finger on her.”

Michalis glowered at her, unfolding his arms. “Hoh? And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Kiran might be able to tolerate your behavior, but I can’t. Neither will I allow you to insult our comrades.”

“And what do you plan on doing about that, Whitewing?”

“How about a little demonstration?”

Palla watched as Michalis reached behind him, his hand loosely gripping his Hauteclere that was strapped on his back. His crimson eyes gleamed, challenging her. _Go on, make the first move._

But it was Kiran that stepped in first, barely reigning in her panic. “W-wait! Hold on! No fighting! Not in here!”

“Move aside, Summoner.” Hauteclere whistled as it cleaved through the air when Michalis brought it down to his side. “Lest you want your blood to be split first.”

Palla moved to guard Kiran but the Summoner refused to move.

“You dare to stand in front of me?” Michalis hissed. “Perhaps I will seize my freedom from your contract tonight after all.”

Kiran planted her feet firmly on the ground and stared him squarely in the eyes. “You won’t do it.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“I know you won’t. I don’t believe that you’re the same person that you may have been in the past.”

If it wasn’t for the dangerous atmosphere stifling the air, Palla would have scoffed at the words. She could hardly imagine that Michalis would have changed his ways during his stay with the Order. Her body remained at the ready to move in and push Kiran out of the way if she needed to.

And yet, a few agonizingly tense moments later, Kiran didn’t move nor did Michalis. But he instead let out an exasperated scoff and replaced Hauteclere onto his back. However, his expression didn’t change.

“...You’re fortunate to be the Summoner of this blasted place. Were you anyone else, I would have you beheaded in an instant.” He said grimly and turned heel. “I’m going to the training grounds. _Don’t_ follow me.”

“Ah, wait! Michalis!” Kiran called after him but was effectively ignored.

It wasn’t until he rounded the corner that Palla sheathed her sword. Then with the back of her hand, she lightly hit the younger girl’s head. “What in the world were doing, stepping in between us like that?”

“Uh, I-I was…” Kiran stammered, having lost of her bravado like a deflated balloon.

“You do understand that if he refused to back down, you could have gotten hurt, right?”

“It was… um, a spur of the moment?”

Palla sighed. By Naga’s name. Sometimes it was difficult to tell whether Kiran was either reckless or fearless. Instinctively, Palla tugged the Summoner into her chest into a loose embrace.

“U-um, Palla?” Kiran squeaked.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t put yourself in needless danger like that.”

Sensing where Palla was getting at, Kiran relaxed. She wrapped her slender arms around her back. “He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

Palla shook her head, her long hair tickling Kiran’s face. “How can you be so sure?”

“I… don’t think he’s a bad person.”

Again, with that misplaced trust in that tyrant. Perhaps it was neither bravery nor recklessness but naivety. “I’m not sure where you get that confidence from, but please. Be more mindful of your position and your safety.”

“I know that you’re worried,” Palla could feel the vibrations of Kiran’s words passing through her breastplate into her chest as Kiran buried herself further into her embrace. “But he’s one of our valuable comrades in this fight. I need to be able to believe in him first if I want him to do the same for me. I need you to be able to place some trust in him too.”

Admirable. Yet naive. So, so naive.

Kiran pulled away from the embrace enough to look directly at Palla with shining eyes. “So please? Give him a chance?”

_But I already have,_ her mind automatically refuted. Plenty of times while she was in Archanea.

Michalis was like a raging wildfire. His ambitions consumed the entire kingdom of Macedon, destroying everything that King Osmond built and protected. In his ashes, Michalis rose to power, reconstructing the kingdom as he fit and eliminating anyone that dare crossed him. Instead of acting as an advocate for peace, he gave the citizens violence and war.

He was revered amongst the people as Iote’s successor that would lift Macedon to even greater heights, as well widely feared for his brutality.

Yet someone as powerful as him, whose aspirations burned brighter than anyone else in the world, fell like a meteor crashing into the earth.

He who has committed the unthinkable to his family had no chance for forgiveness from Palla. But it was Maria and her unconditional kindness that did.

Maria saved him. Palla thought he had turned over a new leaf, his defeat giving way to a renewed sense of humility when he nearly died to steal and deliver the Starlight tome to Marth. Then as soon as the war was over, he left without either a word of gratitude or an apology. Breaking his youngest sister’s heart twice over. And of what of Minerva?

Trust, as the Summoner had called it, wasn’t something handed out so easily. Especially if it was already lost more than once.

“I’ll…” The words crammed in Palla’s throat like a dam. “I can try. If you’re so insistent on it.”

Kiran gave Palla a sheepish grin. “Thank you. I know it’ll be hard, but I’m sure things will work out in the end.”

_Not everything does_ , she thought bitterly. Wouldn’t it be nice if it did?

“Okay,” Kiran exhaled deeply as if she just released a huge load off her shoulders. “Now that we’ve gotten that settled, I think I’ll get some dinner—I’m pretty sure that the supper bell rang a while ago. Would you like to come with me?”

“Ah, no. Perhaps another time.”

“You sure? I heard Est was whipping up something good tonight.”

As tempting as the offer sounded, Palla wasn’t sure if she would be able to stomach it with her thoughts swirling in her head. “Ah, I’ll head over shortly. I think I need to get some fresh air first. I’ve… forgotten how taxing it is to attend such stuffy meetings.”

“Are you feeling well?”

“Certainly. I just need to take a short breather. I’ll head over there shortly. Est may not look the part, but she’s a fine cook. I’m sure you’ll agree once you taste it yourself.”

With a little more coaxing, Kiran finally complied. Palla watched as the younger girl readjusted her signature white hood on her head and begun her walk to the mess hall alone.

Palla slipped away quietly to the nearest balcony overwatching over the training yard grounds. She rested her arms on the railings and breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with air.

She still had her qualms about pairing up with Michalis despite the fact that it was not an uncommon occurrence that they fought frequently together in other teams before.

On the other hand, Kiran’s feelings towards about him were unsettling. There was an apparent level of respect between them, which wasn’t a bad thing. But Kiran was far too trusting for her own good. Normally, Palla would commend such an admirable behavior. But in times of strife, that naivety will put her in danger one day—or even worse, killed. Having a fair amount of other unsavory characters among their ranks doesn’t help either.

“Palla?”

At some point during her brief moment to herself, someone managed to sneak up on her.

She automatically recognized the voice and immediately had to fight the urge to grimace at how her heart fluttered in her chest.

Abel leaned casually against the stone wall, a warm smile dancing on his face. “What are you doing out here? Everyone is enjoying a fine meal in the dining hall.”

“O-oh? Did Kiran tell you to come get me?”

He chuckled. “No, I simply happened to notice that you weren’t at your usual spot with your sisters and offered to go find you myself. So, here I am.”

The discomfort in her stomach intensified from a mild prickling to a knife twisting in her gut. The way his lips wrapped around his words so sweetly never failed to make her feel like a young maiden so deeply in love.

But it wasn’t a love that was meant for her. Nor was it ever to be. In an instant, Palla killed it like the countless many times that she has done before. Buried it and locked it away until the next time.

Because no matter what she did, it never left her. Her love for Abel continued to haunt her even after he went to marry Est.

Even after the both of them vanished from her life without a trace.

He cocks his head to the side. “Is something the matter?”

“No, nothing at all.”

“Then how about it? Est is quite proud about how this batch of stew turned out!”

Her appetite had yet to return but if Abel noticed her absence, then Catria and Est must certainly have too. Then there was Minerva.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” she said at last. At the very least, it would be nice to enjoy her first meal in a long time with her liege, even just for a little while. “I suppose I can head over there right now.”

“If you’ll allow me the pleasure, then I will be happy to escort you,” Abel said.

Palla pushed herself off the railings, ignoring the growing pangs in her chest. Abel waited until for her to approach closer towards him for them to leave together, Palla falling in behind him as he led the way.

Unknownst to them, a solitary figure watched the two from below on the courtyard grounds.

With an indifferent huff, Michalis gripped the wooden practice axe in his hands tighter and slashed the straw dummy right down the middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Minerva is here and now the gang is all back together! And for those that think I might be pushing the angst level with Palla a little bit, let's remember she's gone through a LOT. I think the history of the Whitewings is kinda tragic. Palla, in this fic anyway, is from post-War of Heroes (New Mystery) and while she's still best big sister, I imagine that she still has some baggage to deal with.  
> But I don't have plans on making this super edgy. Or at least, I hope it doesn't seem like it as the story progresses??  
> Meanwhile, I will continue to throw orbs for more Laegjarn merges with my non-existent stash. Plz come homeeee


End file.
